


Keep You Warm

by escapeasy



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Love, Feels, Implied Lelouch/Suzaku, M/M, Male Slash, One Shot, Romance?, Seme Lelouch, Sexual Content, Slash, Spoilers, Top Lelouch, Yaoi, angsty fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2017-11-03
Packaged: 2019-01-23 08:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12503196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escapeasy/pseuds/escapeasy
Summary: R2 Yaoi: Rolo isn’t cold when he’s with Lelouch – and Lelouch will never be cold as long as he has Rolo.





	Keep You Warm

**Author's Note:**

> Code Geass, long time no see! Changed my penname, so you might not recognize me.
> 
> I’ve always wanted to write something for this pairing. I just fail. Better late than never? …And it didn’t register in my brain that Rolo is only around 15 until I’d already starting writing this. D-Does this count as pedo-porn? (._.;)
> 
> Hope you enjoy.  
> \-------------------------------------------

Keep You Warm

Lelouch is warm.

His thin, willowy body isn't exactly cushy but at the core of him is a radiating bubble that consumes Rolo.

A heart beat.

It's steady in a captivating rhythm, fizzling the icy tendrils of winter that try to infect their skin. The alarm clock that wails with the sharpening morning light, however, is effective at prying them open.

"So cold…" Lelouch drowsily murmurs, risking a reaching arm through an arctic crevasse to turn off the clock before retreating into their cozy, huddled cloth of heat. "…Lousy broken heater…"

It's the dead of winter here in Area 11 but the clubhouse of Ashford Academy is drafty even when the heater functions. Lelouch being the dutiful brother he is wouldn't dare to leave his little brother to sleep out in the cold, so Rolo soon found himself swaddled in the toasty affection of the older boy's bed.

Which he's never felt before…

It was difficult to sleep at first, enveloped with a bony body in layers of cotton sheets, a heavy comforter and their only electric blanket like a fragile  _keepsake_.

"Weather like this really makes it difficult to get out of a nice warm bed, doesn't it? And  _so early_ …" Lelouch's low voice is a sumptuous slither slinking into Rolo's ear and coiling around his spine. "Why bother with all those boring lessons and frigid wind…?"

Yet, with Lelouch's arm draped over Rolo like a coddling cage…

Lelouch's smooth, dusky rain-dipped scent pooling into his head through his nose…

And the friendly warmth reaching from Lelouch's body that petted him into relaxing…

Rolo was swallowed by a stealthy swathe of somnolence that snugly cocooned around him.

That is, until, Lelouch's knee knocked on the wall and unceremoniously fissured their familial fabrication by a _rousing_  Rolo awake. The sleepy, solid leg that unconsciously wedged between Rolo's thighs was unexpected but it fitted like they are jigsaw puzzle pieces, and it  _pressed_  up against Rolo's crotch almost as if in a  _natural_  or  _knowing_  motion—

But Rolo wonders if Lelouch's body should remember what his brain doesn't.

"Hm?" Lelouch lifts his head with curious caution, instinctually placing the back of his hand on Rolo's forehead. "You look a little flushed, are you developing a fever?"

"I-I'm fine." Rolo swiftly shifts away from Lelouch's  _touch_  – who is apparently ignorant of his encroaching leg – and instantly feels a chill spill between them.

Chuckles jingle low in Lelouch's throat at his  _shy little brother_  and he languidly pushes himself to sit up, an avalanche of blankets falling from his shoulders.

"That's the only good reason to get out of bed. Need to make sure those repairs happen today."  _Ultra-violet_  eyes  _gleam_  as he fondly rests his hand on Rolo's bed-head. "I don't want my little brother getting sick, sleeping in the cold."

The mauve-eyed boy looks away from that meltingly maudlin gaze as liquid fingers caress his scalp.

…Rolo isn't  _cold_  when he's with Lelouch.

.

That afternoon Ashford's Headmaster calls a repair company to fix the heater.

.

And that same evening Rolo cuts the wires in the utility room.

.

"Although it was working earlier," Lelouch lightly muses as he adjusts the controls on the corded remote of the electric blanket stretched over their bodies in his bed, "seems it's not really fixed."

Rolo averts his gaze, pulling Lelouch's layers of love up under his anxious eyes.

"Not to worry." Lelouch smiles and flutters his fingers through Rolo's hair with lips and fingers that are just  _too soft_. "Big brother will keep you warm."

.

.

The morning sun stabs at the seams of sleep again but Rolo is ignorant to it, being contentedly encased in the nest of his brother's blankets and body like… Like  _snugly_   _bunnies burrowed in their den_  – not something befitting a  _boy_   _like Rolo_. But he clutches the chest of Lelouch's shirt all the same in an arm that once again curled around him throughout the night.

Although, Lelouch laced tighter than the night before.

And Rolo let himself be pulled deeper, slipped right across the ice that persistently tried to prickle like thorns, but yet again it couldn't penetrate the hot sheath they shared. The secret agent nuzzles into the strong heartbeat of his target, delightfully numb in their heat and the black-haired boy's embrace—

Still with that absently ascending knee that fertilizes faint, rosy blossoms on Rolo's cheeks.

When Lelouch restlessly shifts against the growing dawn, Rolo accommodates; pliant to the willing contours of a rebel's lean form—

"Rolo…"

Said boy sluggishly squirms, spooning closer to what he doesn't want to lose when an arm unhooks from his waist.

"Time to get up." A hand gently pushes his shoulder.

"Nn?" Rolo rubs the bleariness from his eyes at the strange impassiveness of  _Zero's_  voice.

"Maybe… you'd like to use the bathroom first."

"What…?"

"Because of your…  _early riser?"_

Rolo is still listless and confused, so Lelouch sympathetically smiles with a hinting point—

And the trained killer is frosted out of sleep and into an eruption of embarrassment at the short but obvious tent in his pajama pants—

And he splits from Lelouch's side like a severed limb. Fortunately, the covers are as an effective shield over his shame as they are against the invading winter air.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Lelouch soothes without a comforting hand, voice kindly folded with care like one of those paper birds he once made. "It's normal for this to happen, especially at this age."

Abashedness is heavy on Rolo's weary gaze, but something in Lelouch's stare holds his afloat— _suspended_.

"D… Does it happen to you?" Rolo's voice, however, patters out smaller than he expected it to; twisting in the fingers fiddling with the blankets mounting his hidden lap.

"…Sometimes." Is Lelouch surprised by the question? It's hard to tell…

Rolo uncomfortably fidgets, awareness like slimy bugs scuttling all over his skin.

Lelouch smiles that  _cursed_  smile, "It's really all right."

…But Rolo isn't sure if that's true – if  _any_  of this is really "all right."

.

.

Rolo squints down at his hands fisting in his fake brother's sheets.

His knees are rooted in their rumpled nest of a croaking mattress as his body is completely filled by Lelouch; hands that always patted him with inexplicable affection are like iron on his hips. Secure.  _Possessing_. Guiding Rolo to the full reception of the body, the rigid  _cock_ , that thrusts him into a moaning inferno he didn't know existed. He can hear his voice mewl out of him in a way he never knew it could – before he met Lelouch – but his ears are focused on the sharp gasps he didn't know  _Lelouch_  could make. They hiss against the moist skin of his exposed lower back as his uniform undershirt furls up to his shoulders; they are broiling breaths that match the relentless rutting of hips into his rear and he tries his best to snuff his voice as fire burns within him. The younger boy almost wonders if it's possible to set the bed ablaze with his— _their_  torrid bodies, assuming he doesn't burst into ashes first.

Lelouch's "sometimes" seems to angrily arise after a certain  _Knight of the Round_  twists the knife in his back, but Lelouch doesn't need some naïve  _betrayer_  that willingly sold himself only to remain another hamster on a wheel.

Lelouch has Rolo.

And Rolo can give Lelouch something that  _Suzaku_  won't.

That  _Nunnally_  never could.

Something buried deep, hidden, in Rolo's body that Lelouch unlocks with every heave of his hips, oozing that molten center Rolo didn't know he had out of his throat in liquid fire. The child assassin's heart bleeds out of his mouth onto the sheets in front of him, melding with the unique, heady scent of Lelouch soaked into the snow-white cloth. He inhales intoxication as his nose rubs into the older boy's smell, arms deflating against the unending current of pleasure spearing into him in thick, scorching swells that sap his strength. Lelouch pours himself into the  _hole_  he effortlessly carved in Rolo's chest and said imposter brother bathes in the unspooling that not only ropes tightly around him but overflows and floods until it washes everything else away.

Melting all the frostbitten hurts.

Icy undesirables still defrosting from Lelouch's bones are tightly packed into this hollow of Rolo's body until the smaller lad is brimming with magmatic moans – selfishly pining for more. He wants to feel the same  _majestic_  hands that tenderly cared for him to  _ravish_  him. His splintering nipples  _crave_  to be pinched by those fingers that always so  _lovingly_  sifted in his hair. He  _yearns_  for the palms that  _caringly_  cupped his hands over piano keys to  _squeeze_  his straining balls. His throbbing, weeping hardness  _aches_  to be  _jerked_  by hands that  _mended_  his heart as it shudders with every swollen inch stretching into him.

…But he also wants those hugging arms that taught him sincerity in soothing circles. Rolo wants them to coil tightly around him with their bottomless spiral as he falls and flies with Lelouch. Wherever they land, it doesn't matter, as long it's with lassoed arms.

He wants— _needs_  all of it.

Everything beneath the mask.

Lelouch's adoring eyes.

His elegant lips.

His eloquent voice.

His drenching scent.

 _Lelouch_.

This rejected royal that's being used just like Rolo always has been – bait dangling like a dying man in a noose. Lelouch can burrow as far and wholly into Rolo as he wants and the heart-hindered boy will welcome it. He'll make room just like Lelouch did for him this past year. Rolo will swallow it all up and hold it safely in his chest.

Yet, Rolo isn't sure if even then it would be  _enough_.

If any of this would –  _could_  – ever be enough.

For now, though, it has to do.

The searing, wet rush of Lelouch's  _end_  blooms deep inside Rolo and a rogue cry is strangled in his hands grappling the smoldering sheets. Soreness stains his knuckles white as pleasure leaps out of him in a hard  _spurt_  that flecks his bouncing belly and even though Lelouch doesn't comment, Rolo hopes he wasn't too loud.

No  _real_  security is watching or recording them but caution should never be dropped.

Lelouch leaves Rolo's body all too quickly and he doesn't smother a nasally groan of discontent as he feels his insides close on the sudden emptiness, their sticky secret slowly seeping out of his tingling opening. He heavily pants as he sits upright, a hot pulse wading around in his body, and looks over his shoulder at the healthy flush on Lelouch's face that he can feel on his own cheeks. The tired teen leans against the foot rail of his bed, still in his student  _costume_ , as he huffs in air, his midnight hair fraying over the hidden power of his left eye that indiscriminately brings everybody to their knees. Rolo shuffles closer on his, sidling up to Britannia's Number One Enemy and boldly staring right into his eyes.

"I'll always keep you warm," Rolo promises, earnestness trickling down the inside of his bare thighs as he kneels next to his former foe, "Brother."

Lelouch's eyes slide over to Rolo's gallant gaze.

Kaleidoscope violets that Rolo can't read.

But any pensiveness is fleeting. Lelouch reaches from the warm affection behind those lingering, frozen spikes of stasis to rest his hand on Rolo's head like he's always done. His long fingers gently tousle creamy brown hair and cradle the head that comfortably rests against his pumping chest. Even placing a small kiss on the disheveled crown of Rolo's head as he ropes his other arm around the body that leans on him. Rolo smiles at the heart that beats warmly against his cheek as he's easily embraced – a content, proud line that almost doesn't fit his lips.

And yet Rolo can't help but wonder how  _someone_  who was held  _this_   _preciously_  by guarded-Lelouch could turn right around and break his arms. Cripple Lelouch so he can't embrace anybody ever again.

Break a tender heart that is scarcely offered.


End file.
